


Flower of Silk

by DulceVolunt



Category: Benedict Cumberbatch - Fandom, British Actor RPF, British Comedy RPF
Genre: Celebrities, Comedy, F/M, Funny, Love, Romance, celebrity, romantic, romcom
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-31
Updated: 2014-06-08
Packaged: 2018-01-27 20:23:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1721399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DulceVolunt/pseuds/DulceVolunt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Camille Blythe, quite the feminist, lives in London and is the best of friends with Abbey Carter, who is an interviewer. Every now and then Camille has to help her friend out by doing some interviews. Something she isn't quite fond of, but well, sometimes you need to give a hand, right?<br/>Well, mildly expressed, one of these interviews is rather peculiar, not like a normal one would go. Most interviews are just questions, no action involved. Though, Camille has always been a bit different. A bit witty, in possession of a fresh, smart personality and according to some people, she's quite gorgeous indeed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Gladiolus

**Author's Note:**

> Hello there!  
> I just wanted to tell you that English is not, I repeat 'not' my native tongue, so I'm sorry for any errors. I'll try my best!  
> Also, feel free to add any bright ideas, I'd love to include them in this silly story!
> 
> Oh, by the way, I'm going to name each chapter another flower. That flower has a meaning to it, obviously.  
> This first chapter is called Gladiolus, because of the fact that the Gladiolus is known for 'the strength of character': a factor that is going to occur in this particulair chapter!

The firm, wooden door opened with a loud crack, revealing her one of the most beautiful decorated rooms she had so far seen in her entire life. The white, marble floor shone brighter than the clearest diamond, the beige coating of the sofa looked softer than the lightest feather, all of the cream coloured walls covered only with bookshelves. Sunlight peaked in the most eccentric, wonderful way through the large glass windows, giving the room a fresh, healthy glow.  
And then, quite near the prodigious balcony that provided the most marvelous view of the city of London, there was a goodlooking, decent gentleman sitting in one of the armchairs.  
  
With a swift motion he stood up to then take her hand.  
'You must be Miss Blythe, am I correct?' his deep, baritone voice entered her brain. It was so very rich, so very... sexy.

'Camille yes, it's a pleasure to meet you, Mr Cumberbatch,' her soft voice sang like a beautiful melody.   
 _Blimey, I wasn't aware of the fact that he was that handsome. I mean, sure, I knew he was pretty but this? How could Abbey do this to me, fuck._

'Camille,' he allowed himself to taste her name with his gorgeously shaped lips. 'How lovely. Call me Ben.'

 _Oh, woah there, he's posh. He's posh also. I don't like posh. Stop being posh.  
_ 'Ben,' she repeated, after giving him a dazzling smile, as if to conceal the thoughts she had just had. Sometimes she really did feel like people could read her mind, which was rather disturbing, in her opinion.

'I take that you are here to replace Miss Carter? For the interview?'

'Abbey, yes, that is correct.'  
 _Mother of god, could that be any more formal? Formal and posh, right, opposite of myself. This promises to be... quite terrible. I can't help to look at his eyes though. He has heterochromia, I looked it up. I wish I had heterochromia, it's so fucking beautiful._

'So, shall we begin?' he looked witty and gave her a boyish grin. It looked cute, very cute, though she couldn't help loathing his quote.

'Did you just quote Khan?' she questioned him, sarcastically, giving him a rather odd look.  
 _Seriously? Seriously, quoting Khan? He must find himself very witty. Maybe I'm overreacting. Maybe I'm just in a grumpy mood today but... no._

'Maybe,' he simply answered.  
 _Oh my god. He's looking at me like... no he's not even looking at me. He's slowly, very patiently taking my clothes off in his fucking mind. I can see the lust and desire in his eyes. For god's sake, this is freaking nasty! Harassment it is!_

'Maybe?'  
 _What the fuck is that supposed to mean?  
Dear god my instinct is bloody hell right. What is he planning on doing?_

'Yes.'

With a deep sigh, she put herself together to then start the interview. She didn't feel like disappointing Abbey, again. Her best friend was ill, as always, and she was here to do the job for her, even though she wasn't an interviewer herself. In fact, she had only done this two times before and she kind of wasn't doing a very good job, mildly expressed. She was just one of those persons that wasn't able to, well... not show her feelings, whether they were friendly or simply hostile.   
But well, here she was anyway.

They took place on the big, soft armchairs so that they were situated opposite from one another.   
'Alright,' she gave him a fake smile. 'First of all, what was it like to crawl back into the famous skin of Mr Holmes again?'

He answered. Oh boy, he answered. He answered saying things like 'It was a pleasant, warm welcome.' or 'I missed him.' or things, jokingly, like 'The best was the purple shirt. You probably know why?' after giving a wink.  
 _A wink? Seriously though? What are you, ten? Besides, why in hell would I care it's a pleasant, warm welcome. Like it's fucking Christmas. Dude, how about no. You really hope I'm going to jump you, huh?_

She cleared her throat to save time in order to find a proper answer.  
 _How do you answer such things? I mean, I didn't even fucking listen. Did he took drugs or something?  
_ And then, before she could even think properly, she spat it out. Literally, just literally, she asked him whether he was on drugs or not.

For a moment, he just blinked his eyes in surprise, disbelieve.   
'On drugs? Excuse me?'

'Fuck. Fuck, sorry,' she felt like opening a hatch in the marble to then never return.  
 _Oh my fucking god did I just really say that? Fuck._

'Why in hell would you ask me that?'

It wasn't a good move from him, asking her why. That kind of gave her the permission to throw it all out.  
'First of all, stop being so bloody posh. It's annoying. Second, you being so formal is fucking terrible. Third, purple shirt, _really_? Fourth-'

'Woah there,' he cut her off, laughing, little wrinkles appearing next to his ocean blue eyes. Small, lively twinkles appeared in them, stating how much he was enjoying himself. 'Posh? Formal? Why's that?'

 _Oh my god, what a fucking idiot.  
_ 'Wanker.'

'Wanker?' he was seriously laughing now, while one of his hand tousled through his brown, curly hair. 'Please explain further, dear.'

 _Can I have a puke bucket? He just called me dear. Filthy.  
_ 'Now will you excuse me?' she stood up, grabbing her purse that was laying on the wooden table, next to her coffee. As she took a sip while putting on her coat and turning in attempt to leave, she suddenly felt his strong, big hand taking hers, rather with slight force.

'What the fuck?'

'I want a further explanation.'  
  
'You do? What a shame!' she spoke with obvious sarcasm.

'Tell me, what have I done wrong?'  
  
 _Is he deaf?_  
'I think I just told you, _dear_.'

'But why?'

'Why? I guess it's because I can look through your fake gentleman behaviour. Plus you're arrogant. You must think that you can get everything in the world? Correct me if I'm wrong.'

'Where in hell are you-'

'I'm talking about dirty fellows, _dear_ ,' she cut him off, accentuating the last word with extra sarcasm. 'You really think I didn't see where your mind was going?'

'What?'

'Oh, arrogant bastard. I suggest you ripping my clothes off right now! Isn't that a delight?'  
He looked beatened.   
 _Oh my god, the fact that he looks down only states the obivious! Jeez, what an asshole.  
_ 'You always do that? Shamelessly undoing buttons? Tearing clothes off bodies in your mind?'

He looked up, showing a big smirk on his delightful face, something darker in his eyes this time.  
'No, actually no.'

'Well I suggest you to stop.'

'You sure?'

'Beg you pardon?'  
 _What? If I am sure? Haven't I made myself clear enough?_

He moved closer.  
'Some women can be so... offensive.'

'Tell me more, sir, I know some men who are exactly the same.'

'No, we men are polite. We are generous and honest.'

She tried to supress a sarcastic laughter.  
 _What is his problem?_  
'Ever so honest, huh? What about you mentally bringing me with you to the bedroom, then?'

He did yet another step closer, their lips dangerously close. Very slowly, he shifted towards the wall, his hot breath covering her soft, velvet skin.  
'At least I _am_ honest.'

 _What? What the fuck. He sure needs to get away from me because he's very, like very close right now and I'm not letting myself doing... this._  
'Tell me who isn't?'

'You. I bet you don't have any problem with me devouring you.'

'I do, actually.'  
With that, he smashed her against the wall. With one hand, he grabbed her waist, while he placed the other one near her head on the wall.  
 _Good lord, that was sexy. And wrong. Asshole._

'I'm not so sure about that.'

'I am, Fuckwit.'  
As she breathed out the last word, he pressed his hot, velvet lips on hers. He kissed her, hard, very hard. And it felt so good, as he tried to gain access with his tongue, sucking at her bottom lip, doing so with no mercy. Their soft tongues entwined as she allowed him access, making the kiss only become more hot and steamy.  
 _Oh fuck he's a good kisser._  
Her hands instantly grabbed his hair, while both his hands were cupping her face now.  
 _Damn fuck fuck fuck what am I doing_  
  
It felt like hours before they both parted, heavily breathing because of the lack of oxygen. He still was holding her as he made eye contact, revealing those magical, majestic eyes, more beautiful than the prettiest sunset.  
'Fucking fuck you asshole!' suddenly, she became angry again. 'Shit, you did it again, didn't you? You and... your... your fucking gorgeous face and perfectly shaped lips and your eyes and voice and oh my god how could you.'  
 _He is a fucking bastard. A handsome bastard, very handsome. Though, I am certainly not amused. Well... I am amused, but not like that. I am not amused by the fact that he just does things because he thinks he can get anything he wants and... fuck._  
She ran her hand through her short, blonde waves as she hurried to get out of the room as fast as possible. She needed air, fresh air. But, before she actually closed the big, firm door, she shouted something towards him, making him grimace like a total retard.  
  
'Will we meet again, asshole.'

 


	2. Delphinium

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry in advance, Camille does swear a lot!
> 
> This chapter is called Delphinium, since that flower is famous for its boldness, which both Camille and Benedict kind of really are, especially in this one chapter.

It was pouring, raining so extremely hard while showers were falling down the London streets. Being outside for more or less than one millisecond meant drowned clothes, soaking shoes and a hair coupe even a dog would be bloody afraid of.  
Though, it didn’t stop Camille from running down the streets, running away from that gorgeous god that just kissed her like no-one had ever kissed her before and…  
 _Oh my god what the fuck am I doing I can’t stop thinking about him even after two minutes of actually talking to him and one kiss. My life is going to be a disaster what the fuck am I doing. I need to get myself together._  
 _Alright._  
 _Let me remind myself that he is a posh, formal asshole. He is not kind._  
 _He is kind of cute though._  
 _Good lord no! No, no, no! Stupid fucking brain leave me the fuck alone!_

As she hysterically pushed the button again and again near the traffic lights in order to cross the road, she realised she was wet from tip to toe now. Cold, moist drops wiggled over her face, ruining her make-up, making her shiver. It went on and on, rain keeping falling on her blonde, short waves. Water keep landing on her sophisticated, suede raincoat. Drops keep wettening her leather knee-high boots. It was awful, disgusting and annoying all in once.  
 _Fu-cking great. My day really couldn’t get any better now! Here I am, soaking wet waiting for that bloody traffic light to turn green for me but no, of course, it won’t turn green for the next twenty hours. What did I say? Hours? Let’s make that years._

Very suddenly, the rain just stopped pouring. That, though, was quite odd since she still saw it falling down on the streets, around her, across her, next to her. She still saw people running as fast as they could, trying to find shelter but failing. She could still hear people swearing and cursing to whoever or whatever invented rain.   
 _The fuck is this?_

As she looked up, she saw a huge, black umbrella covering her body. It was literally the biggest, most enormous umbrella she had ever seen in her entire life. Her eyes followed the handle all the way to the tip were two, big hands were holding it. Familiar hands, sexy hands… Benedict’s hands.  
 _Woah there what the hell is this posh stalker doing here? Isn’t it time for afternoon tea with scones for Mr Fuckwit?_

‘Oh my fucking god what the hell are you doing here?’ she turned around, meeting his icy blue eyes again. They still sparkled, like they started to do so when they started making out.  
 _Jesus Christ, he still looks like he’s taking my clothes off, mentally. That’s so awful, good lord._

‘Giving milady some shelter.’  
He had this awful grin on his face that looked way too cute to handle, but she tried to contain herself. Quite surprisingly, it worked.  
 _It’s not about looks, it’s about personality, Camille. I repeat, personality. So not posh, not formal, not arrogant and so on._

‘Milady doesn’t need your fucking umbrella.’

‘Milady prefers standing in the rain? I do detect some shivers running down your spine.’

‘Congratulations, Sherlock, well done. I’m so proud of you, I can’t even begin to express myself.’

‘Thanks, well appreciated. So, where are you headed, dear?’  
 _No, no, no! Do not call me ‘dear’ that is so freaking disgusting I might puke._

‘Could you stop calling me _dear_ , stupid retard?’

He simply grinned and took her shoulders into his palms, bending over to whisper in her ear with his lowest, most baritone voice he could manage.  
‘Everything for you, _dear_.’

His hot breath warmed up her icy cold skin, his lips that had just kissed her dangerously close.  
 _Ugh, I’m not falling for his charm again. He still is an asshole and he needs to back off, now._

‘Sorry, it’s not working for me.’  
Yet again a shiver run down her spine, while she kind of was undercooled now.  
 _Oh my god I’m so bloody cold, I’m actually freezing to death! I really need a good cup of coffee now will I try to make something of this day._  
 _Although, I wouldn’t mind laying curled up on the couch watching a movie now either._

‘You’re cold?’

‘Do I look like I’m warm?

‘Well you certainly do look hot, so I thought maybe you could heat yourself up a little bit.’

Her eyes distended almost frightening wide, rolling them in disbelief as she put her hand on her face.  
‘That is the worst pickup line I have ever heard in my entire life, you know that? And since it’s not even meant as a pickup line it makes things only worse. I thought I should let you know.’ She offered him a obvious, fake smile.  
 _What is wrong with this man? Does he think he’s funny? Mother of god, what a retard. Heating myself up? Seriously though? How about no._

‘Thanks,’ he answered. His sensual, deep voice tickling her senses.  
 _Fuck, he’s really trying. Really, really trying. Doesn’t seem like Mr Fuckwit wants to give up too soon. Can’t he bloody find another victim? I’m kind of busy right now. You know, with... things, I guess._

‘You’re so _welcome!’_ she spoke with obvious sarcasm. ‘I mean, it’s a great pickup line, if you were to be a eight year old boy.’

‘Are you being sarcastic?’

‘Of course not! I’m far too ditzy to grasp the subtelities of mockery!’

‘Again,’ he chuckled. ‘I-’  
 _Jesus his chuckle feels like a fucking melody in my ears._

‘There really is no hope for you left, fella. Thanks for the umbrella though it-’ she cut him off, but he immediately cut her off as well, followed by a brief wink.  
 _What the hell? He's cutting me off now? Does this mean he actually does have some balls?_

Suddenly, he very rapidly changed his attitude.  
‘Looks like I overestimated the number of your brain cells.’

She blinked a few times before proceeding.  
 _Oh, now I like you. You’re a lot nicer now. Wow, that's much better. I knew there was something, there had to be. I mean, it must be me, but if someone is being sarcastic, I kind of like the person aready. Posh persons need to leave my eyeshot.  
I'm kind of in a dilemma now. He's both. The fuck's with this man? Hmm... let me try again._

‘Firstly, it’s rude to talk while I’m interrupting you. Secondly, I guess you’re so dumb your IQ and shoesize match.’

‘I think the fuck I give went that way,’ he pointed his long, pale finger in the direction of a small coffee shop.  
 _Oh, why the hell not? I like him better this way. I mean of course he’s posh and arrogant and irritating not to mention annoying, but he does have some good sarcasm. I like sarcasm. I don’t like posh. Maybe they can balance? That means I can now focus on his appearance. He’s so freaking handsome it’s not even healthy._

‘Let’s go and find it, shall we?’

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I'd greatly appreciate to hear your opinion!


End file.
